


You Deserve This

by Hiboux



Category: Original Work
Genre: But I know it's probably only gonna double the thirst for this ghoul man, F/M, Here you go Discord, I would ask if this satisfies you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 08:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21194438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiboux/pseuds/Hiboux
Summary: Prompt: "You Deserve This."Some Isobe loving, because I promised the Discord





	You Deserve This

The grip on his hair was painfully tight, knuckles white as he pulled on ebony locks.

He was distraught, pacing back and forward. If he was corporeal, he'd be wearing tracks into the wooden floor.

You frowned softly, moving closer.

"Isobe…"

He didn't hear you, robe fluttering out behind him as he spun on his heel and walked back the way he'd come.

" _ Isobe _ ."

He stopped, lifting his gaze to meet yours.

White eyes met white eyes, and you stepped forwards slowly. A hand reaching out to smooth over his gaunt cheek.

The skin was pallid, his high cheekbones the most prominent feature of his face. Your thumb traced over one slowly.

He looked so frail, and to see him in distress made your heart ache.

Your name left his lips in a sigh, but his gaze shifted elsewhere, tone clipped anxiously.

"You can relax, you know?" A tap of your index finger on his jaw brought his attention back.

"But Yuuta-"

"-will be  _ fine _ . He knows how to reach you if he needs you."

The man let out a rattling breath.

You smiled, leaning up to place a kiss on his furrowed brow.

"Let go of your hair, dear.."

Isobe’s expression relaxed, and his hands slipped from tangled tresses. The strands were frizzed and coiled from the stress of his pulls, and you held out your free hand to take ahold his. 

He looked defeated, like a man home from war. Gaunt, slim and worried beyond his years.

“It’s alright, Isobe… You’re allowed to relax. What’s that saying?  _ ‘I’ll rest when I’m dead’ _ ..?~” You laughed softly, drawing a soft exhale from the other ghost.

“At least when I was in my hospital bed, I didn’t need to worry about a group of reckless children…~”

Leading him away from the empty section of the room, the walls wavered around you.

This abode of yours was a space between worlds, a rest stop for weary spirits.

Not many stayed for long, and fewer returned more than twice. 

Isobe was the exception.

The man had arrived one day, suddenly appearing in your foyer as had every ghost before him. Bless his heart - he apologised profusely. 

It had taken you five minutes of withholding your amusement for you to reassure him that this was normal, and he was not invading in the slightest.

You’d long since turned your own personal sanctuary into a haven. 

It was a very traditionally European home, with large winding staircases, decorative banisters and more rooms than you could count on both hands.

Why you had such an extravagant space, you did not know. Memories were a luxury you had not been granted.

But you didn’t mind, because whilst you had very little to reflect back on, you always had something to look forward to; eagerly awaiting the next visit from your favourite returning patron. 

“Sit down, you can worry about the children without wearing my floorboards thin..” You guided him to a lounge and he slumped into it with a softly murmured apology.

Shaking your head, your lips met his for a brief moment.

“Silly man… You don’t need to apologise for a thing.” You took up the spot beside him, one hand still grasping his as you watched the tension seep from his bones. “But you do need to let me brush this mane of yours. It always gets so tangled when you pull on it..”

A head rested on your shoulder and you smiled gently, fingers of your free hand combing through the ebony locks. He had more hair than he knew what to do with, but it was soft and thin, like a curtain of finely spun silk.

His face pressed closer into the crook of your neck, and you held a hand out.

Your fingers curled around a hairbrush.

These things just seemed to appear when you needed them. Their origins were a mystery, but you weren’t one to question pleasantly helpful unknown forces.

You lightly tapped Isobe’s side with the brush, and he reluctantly pulled himself from you to turn around.

He leaned into your touch as you loosed the hair from its ponytail.

It held up well since the last time you’d put it up for him. He had no idea how to do it himself, and any effort to teach him had ended poorly.

Every time he arrived, you’d redo it for him. It was routine by now.

Fingers parted the hair as a brush pulled through it, working out the tangles and any unruly strands.

The actions were slow and steady, your hands working section by section as his taller frame leaned back slightly so you could reach without straining himself.

Nimble fingers worked quick, twisting small braids from both his left and right temple. They disappeared into the high ponytail where you had gathered the rest of his hair.

“The braids are new.. Normally you leave them loose.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to the back of his slim jaw now that there was nothing obstructing your access to it.

“Well you’ve proven you can’t be trusted..~ So until you can break that nasty habit of yours, you’ve got a new look~...” Your tone was a sing-song one, draping his hair over his shoulder and shuffling back as he turned back around.

Inspecting his face, you nodded.

“It’s just as I suspected..”

“Which is..?”

“You look very handsome like this.”

His pale cheeks heated up and though his marble eyes had no irises, much like your own, the movement gave away the embarrassed aversion of his gaze.

A light laugh escaped you, at his expense.

He frowned, but you’d already moved into his lap, arms looping loosely around his neck and fingers combing through freshly brushed curtain of ebony silk.

He muttered your name in annoyance, but the pout on his lips didn’t back up his act.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. You know I can’t help but compliment you..~”

You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not..-”

“Hush, we’ve been over this…”

The pout eased up, slender arms wrapping around your waist.

His nose nuzzled lightly at the spot where your neck and shoulder met.

The next time your name escaped him, it was softer than a breath.

“I know you’re worried, but you deserve a break too, Isobe…” You let one hand pull back to cup his cheek once again, lifting his head and cradling it as you turned him to face you.

“You deserve so much more than an afterlife of stress and doubt…” You always loved holding him this way…

He grimaced softly, and you wouldn’t have that.

Your lips met his, this kiss firmer than the previous ones. He responded with equal enthusiasm, and his thin hands balled in the fluffy material of your dressing gown.

When you slowly pulled back, his normally tensed figure was at ease. You were sure that if he could, he would have melted into your lounge by now.

“Look at me.” He obliged, gazing up at you as if you’d single-handedly hung every star in the night sky. You smiled. “You deserve this, Isobe. You deserve  _ this  _ and you deserve  _ me _ .”

To him, you had.


End file.
